


Breaking News (Miraculous One-Shot)

by MiraculouslyTrashy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: "death", Angst, Death, F/M, Feelings, Photoshop, School, but not i promise, but not really, is this what feelings are like?, no reveal, school age stil, they dont know their identities, what's the stages of grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculouslyTrashy/pseuds/MiraculouslyTrashy
Summary: When "breaking news" spreads across Paris of Ladybug's apparent death, Marinette is amidst the crowds and sees everyone's reactions to the news. She seeks out Adrien to see him through the loss of his beloved superhero.Plus some exchanges between Ladybug and Chat amid the aftermath of the day.





	Breaking News (Miraculous One-Shot)

It was free period when it seemed like everyone in Paris received a ‘breaking news’ notification on their phone. Naturally, everyone, including the students, opened their phones to see what was going on. Normally it was a warning about an Akuma that was on the loose and for everyone to find shelter. But this time, it was a live stream from the news station, showing Nadia sitting in the studio with a sorrowful look on her face. “This just in. An anonymous source has just sent us a photo of what seems like the body of Ladybug, bloody and unconscious. The source explained that they came across this bloody scene on the outskirts of the city. They had checked her for signs of life but found...” she sniffles and clears her throat, “found nothing.

“Our reporters are working hard to confirm this information and find and identify the body of Ladybug, hoping to get some answers as to what occurred to our superheroine. The image we are about to show you may not be suitable for younger viewers,” she concludes before an image of Ladybug laying on the side of the street with scratch marks all over her arms and legs seeping with blood. 

Marinette doesn't blink during the broadcast, her eyes glued to Alya’s phone that was playing the transmission. 

Alya drops her phone onto the table when the image pops up, her hands shaking slightly. Mari stares at the image, almost convinced herself that she was somehow dead. She nonchalantly presses her hand against the bench they were sitting on, half expecting her hand to pass right through. She lets out a silent sigh of relief when her fingers meet the cool plastic surface beneath her.

Now convinced she’s not a ghost, she turns to Alya who has dissolved into a flood of tears, unable to be held back by her palms pressed against her eyes after putting her glasses on the table; tears dripping down her forearms. “Alya, Alya, hey,” she tries to soothe her, rubbing her shoulder, turning the phone screen off, “That, that picture, it could be fake, it’s probably fake, I’m sure Ladybug is fine!”

She tries to wipe her tears back, “We don't know that! And it looked pretty real to me,” she chokes out between sobs, sending a new stream of tears down her face. 

“Uh, um, but...” Marinette struggles to reign her in when more outbursts and cries sound off around her. She looks around and sees students with their heads hung low, consoling each other. 

Suddenly, Nino comes up to their table, sliding in next to Alya with his arms open. She immediately falls into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder. He rubs her back, looking over her shoulder at Marinette. “You should find Adrien. I expect he could use a friend right now.” He urges her before turning back into Alya.

Her heart skips a beat at the mention of Adrien. She nods wordlessly before getting to her feet and starts scouting for Adrien. 

‘_Why would Adrien specifically need a friend right now? Could he be in such a state as Alya is? Did he really care for Ladybug that much?_’ Her mind runs, ‘_Everyone in Paris is fond of Ladybug to some degree, is it possible that Adrien was on the higher part of that scale?_’ She mentally shakes away that thought, not wanting to go into the implications of that this moment. Right now, she is Marinette, and Adrien needs a friend.

After peering into a couple classrooms, she finds him sitting alone in a room at the end of the hall. He’s hunched over, his head hanging in his hands, every once and a while his body shakes from a sob. The image of him jars Marinette a bit, used to seeing him with perpetually perfect posture and a smile. 

_‘He could use a friend right now’ _Nino’s words echo in her mind. She feels a calmness come over her; this isn’t _Adrien her crush_ that needs her, this is _Adrien her friend_ that needs her.

She cracks open the door, knocking to alert him of her presence.

His head shoots up and a weak smile crosses his face, “Hey, sorry, I’m just,”

She holds up her hand to cut him off, “C-can I join you?” She asks softly, lingering in the doorframe.

He quickly wipes his eyes, “Of course, of course”, he gestures for her to sit next to him. 

She leaves the door open a few inches behind her, the sound of a few teachers trying to restore order in the common area can be heard below. She stays conscious of her movements, not wanting to be a clutz in this moment. Removing her bag from her shoulder, placing it on the desk, she slides into the seat adjacent Adrien. A silence hangs in the air, not an awkward silence, but a comforting one. Marinette gently breaks the quiet, “So, you saw the news.” She states, having intended to form her words as a question but came out as a fact. “I mean, I guess, everyone has,” she stammers, not wanting to make it seem like she assumed anything from his appearance.

He nods, unaware of her worries, “Yeah, I... I can't believe it,” he replies with a hollowness in his voice.

“Yeah, me neither...” she attempts to remain sympathetic sounding, but her voice inflections threaten to expose her. “I mean I really don't believe it, like the whole thing seems kinda strange and out of nowhere, and Nadia said they’re trying to confirm the report ASAP and...” she stops herself from rambling, seeing that it's not helping Adrien’s mood. 

He looks over at her and smiles slightly, “You always look on the bright side, Marinette; I like that.” 

She inhales sharply after his comment, trying to control her reaction. Watching his slight smile fade away brings her back down to Earth.

He leans back, his hands dropping into his lap, “I know I should be skeptical of the report, but honestly, I can't help in assuming the worst right now.” The window catches his eye, looking out at the sky that has gathered a few dark clouds since the school day began.

She follows his gaze then turns back towards him, “I-I didn't know you cared about Ladybug so much.” She says with genuine interest, trying her best to separate her other-half from the moment.

Another turn up of the corner of his mouth that quickly fades away, “Yeah, I... admire her, a lot; everything she does for Paris, and all. Her and Chat Noir.” He tacks on the end like an afterthought. 

Marinette’s mind instantly flashes to a different train of thought; thinking out loud she muses absentmindedly, “I wonder if Chat Noir saw the news report”.

There's a beat of silence before Adrien answers “Probably.” in a neutral tone, his hands ball up reflexively on his lap.

Her mind remembers celebrities and designers she had admired who had passed away in her lifetime. Some were hard to confront but she moved on, considering she hadn't known any of them personally. For lack of better terms, Marinette thought the loss of ‘Ladybug’ from the city as nothing more than if a distant celebrity passed away. People like Alya would take it hard, but everyone else would move on quickly, she thought grimly. 

Everyone but Chat.

A wave of guilt washes over her despite it not being her fault that this rumor was started; and that she can't exactly go to the news studio as Ladybug to clear things up during school hours, let alone justify why Ladybug would be at their school if she chose to transform in a bathroom stall. She silently wishes there were some way she could at least contact Chat, knowing how he must be reacting to the ‘news’. “I hope he’s okay.” She wonders honestly. 

His expression softens, watching Marinette’s concerned face, “He will be” he says like a promise. He leans forward against the desk again, “It’ll take time to heal, for everyone in Paris, but she has left a mark on the city that won’t fade either.” He ventures.

Blush creeps up her cheeks, “You think so?” she asks innocently, having never lingered long on her impact as Ladybug before.

Adrien visibly tries to hold back a slightly incredulous smirk and fails, “Of course.” He states firmly, “I, er, no one could imagine Paris without her, I bet. Well, until now,” His tone drops again after effusing about the heroine. His arms fold across his chest as he takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,”

Mari’s eyebrows pull together, “Sorry? For what?”

He half-shrugs, “For acting this way, you shouldn't have to be here,” he hangs his head.

Her mouth opens slightly, trying to find the right words, “You shouldn't feel sorry,” she reaches out, hesitating slightly before resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “you don't have to go through stuff alone. Nino, Alya, and I, and our other friends really care about you and would be there for you.” 

His eyes widen at this statement, as if this was a new concept to him. He nods slightly, “That’s, that’s really cool of you guys,”

Just then, both of them hear their phones going off. Marinette is quicker on the draw, pulling hers out of her bag and reading the notification out loud, “It’s the follow up report.”

Adrien winces, still fearing the worst, “Open it,” he urges nonetheless.

Nadia pops back up on her phone:

“Our reporters have found that the anonymous tip that had been given to us this morning to be _fake_.”

Mari sees Adrien quietly wipe grateful tears from his eyes as the report goes on.

“The man who gave the station his fabricated account of the Ladybug situation is also responsible to photoshopping the shocking image that he used as ‘proof’ of his encounter. The man shall remain nameless but has been brought in for questioning by local authorities for inciting panic and spreading false information.”

Marinette puts her phone away as the broadcast ends, “Thank goodness,” she feigns relief, “I’m glad Ladybug is fine.”

Adrien nods, blinking hard to clear his vision, “Yeah, thank goodness,” he repeats, unable to put into words how it feels, like a great weight has been lifted off his chest.

The final bell rings and both of them automatically rise from their seats, but Adrien holds back, calling to Marinette as she reaches for the door, “Hey,”

She whirls around, “Yeah?”

He looks to the side sheepishly before meeting her gaze, “Uh, thanks for sitting with me,” he says as his hand fidgets with the strap on his bag.

Mari feels her heart floating in her chest, “Of course, anytime, I’ll be there, always,” She stammers, pulling the door a bit too fast and nearly clipping her nose. She waves herself off before slipping into the hall.

~

Marinette transforms as soon as she gets into her room and checks her communicator, surprised to see Chat already out and about on her locator. She plans where to intersect his path and heads out.

It doesn't take long before she realizes that Chat has changed trajectory and is making a beeline right for her, probably after seeing her location on his own locator. Not long after, they spy each other across the Parisian rooftops. Chat shouts something excitedly that Ladybug can't make out from this distance. 

“What?!” She exclaims in reply before their momentums bring them together. 

Chat flings himself at her, holding her tightly against his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for not being dead.” He murmurs excitedly into their embrace. “Please never fake die, or actually die, again,”

She settles into his hug, rubbing his back gently, “I don't think I really get a say in that,” 

He holds her tighter, “Please,” he begs softly.

She sighs and rests her cheek on his chest, “I’ll try my best.” She promises, “As long as you do the same.”

He eases up on the hug so he can look down at her with tear stained smirk, “Promise, unless it’s to save you, M’lady; you’ll always come first to me.” His voice breaks at the end, sending a chill up Ladybug’s spine. 

She pushes him away slightly, “Don’t, don't say that.” She shakes her head unwillingly.

He straightens up, cocking his head to the side to look at her. “It’s true, though. I would never let anything happen to you, no matter the cost.” He swears, taking a step towards her. 

She takes a step back, still shaking her head, “That’s too much, I don't accept,” she blurts out, scrambling to find the right words to explain herself. 

A sour note crosses Chat’s features, “No offence, but I wasn't asking permission to save your life. It’s my choice.”

“D-don't you value your own life at all?” she stammers, crossing her arms and holding her wrists.

Chat plants himself, no longer advancing towards her, “Why is it so hard for you to understand?” he asks incredulously. 

“I could say the same thing about you!” She interjects, losing her control for a second.

Chat’s taken aback, not used to seeing her like this. “Then what exactly do_ I _not understand? Hmm?” he sasses back.

She rolls her eyes hard, grumbling to herself.

“Please do tell, M’lady,” Chat mocks, thinking she has no real explanation for her outburst. 

She looks at the ground, “Don't you think it goes both ways?” She says quietly, shaking her head slightly, “That I would give my life for you too?” She doesn't look up at him but receives no response either, so she grits her teeth and continues, “I never want you to sacrifice yourself for me because you’re the one who’s supposed to live.” Her grip tightens on her arms, pressing them against her chest. 

“What, why would you say that?” He asks in a low voice, his chest suddenly heavy with confusion. He intently watches her in her closed off form, unable to look away while Ladybug chooses to keep her eyes down. 

“My Kwami told me something. That nearly all the past Chat Noirs...” she clears her throat hoarsely, “died... saving their Ladybugs.” She peeks at him from the corner of her eye, broken by the look on his face, “I decided I couldn't let that happen to you.” She concludes in a strained voice, “I thought I could be better than the past Ladybugs,” her face contorts into a sad smile, “I thought I, in my role as Ladybug, was the deciding factor in this pattern of... _loss_,” she shakes her head slightly, unable to look away from him now, “But it’s been you, the Chat Noirs, all these millennia, as if _programmed_ to always save your Ladybug over yourselves.” A haze covers her vision, she blinks it away, but a glint is still seen in her eyes by Chat. 

He approaches her carefully, reaching out his arms slightly, as if the gentle breeze would be enough to knock Ladybug off her balance and he’d have to catch her, “Nothing is ‘programmed’ into me,” he promises, “I don't know how the other Chats felt towards their Ladybugs, but if it was anything near how I feel, I can understand why they did what they did.”

“But that’s exactly my point! What if everything you feel towards me is just part of the Miraculous? Would you ever feel _this strongly _towards me if we were normal people?” She argues, but is losing some of the steam behind her words.

Chat frowns, refusing to let Ladybug think that his feelings are anything but genuine and real, “Of course I would.”

“But you don't know-!”

“I had to experience what it would feel like to lose you; do you understand that much?” He cuts her off in a forceful voice, his fists at this sides as he continues in a softer tone, “I...I could never go through that again.”

Wordlessly, she wraps her hand around one of his balled-up hands, eventually interlacing her fingers with his, holding them both steady. “I can't understand what you went through, not truly; And I would never want to.” 

He sniffs, “Would you really only risk your life for me because you feel guilty for all past Chat Noirs?” He asks honestly, a little heartbroken.

“I didn't mean it like that,”

“Then what _did _you mean?”

“I couldn't believe...” she sighs, knowing where this answer will lead her, “I couldn't believe that the other Ladybugs would let this happen over and over again, especially if they felt the same way towards _their _Chats as I do towards...” her hand tightens around his, “you”. 

Chat holds his breath, resisting the urge to pinch himself. Stunned, he tries to catch her eye, but fails to hold her gaze. “Maybe, maybe we promise each other we’ll be careful, in battles and fights and stuff, so hopefully there’s no need for anyone to sacrifice themselves.” He suggests, a gentle smile coming to his face. “And maybe you’re right about one thing.”

She turns towards him, her glassy eyes sparking in the setting rays of sun.

“Our Miraculous’, our powers, Creation and Destruction: one can’t exist without the other, right? I’m starting to understand... that it may extend beyond the metaphor,” he brushes a strand of her hair back from her face.

Ladybug lowers her head, “I think I am too” she admits, her eyes widening at the realization after saying it aloud.

Chat’s heart flies in his chest, almost feeling a bit lightheaded, “So, where does that leave us?” he inquires, wishing she would never let go of his hand, as if she were the only thing keeping him from floating away.

She looks down at their entwined hands and squeezes her palm against his, gazing back into his eyes, just realizing now how close together they’re standing. A rush of blush colors her cheeks, “I-I think we’re behind on patrol, we better get going” she breathes, not dropping his hand.

Chat lets this moment exist in its entirety, “That’s all I could ask for right now.” He kisses her knuckle and releases her, not used to being the one to let go first. “After you, M’lady” he bows, gesturing to the glowing horizon. 

Ladybug self-consciously rubs her face with the back of her hand, as if she could rub away the pink shade that seems to stain her face. “Right,” she nods, before throwing her yo-yo and zipping off.

Chat Noir watches her silhouette against the sky, content in knowing his love was alive and that he made her blush.


End file.
